


In Bloom

by Greentaelephants



Series: Eternal [1]
Category: Kpop - Fandom, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Ancient History, Blood, Blood and Violence, Depressing, Loss of Innocence, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:23:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greentaelephants/pseuds/Greentaelephants
Summary: Many many years ago when winter gave way to spring, Junhui fell.





	

It is winter the first time Junhui lays eyes on the boy. The air is cold and biting as he helps his family set up into their small cottage on the outskirts of the village, it's twilight and the sky appears warm with hues of orange, pink, purple, and traces of powder blue contrasting with the stark white of snow surrounding him and the tall spindly dark barren trees. Gathering the bags and boxes of his family's belongings from where they were attached to the family horse's saddle, his eyes wandering over the place he will soon call his new home. The boy is young, around his age or less, and he is feeding an ox just a little way down from the cottage, near a patch of grassy knoll before the opening of the nearby forest. His cheeks are flushed red and his short dark hair blows gently in the wind. A smile is on his lips as he seems to talk to the animal, rubbing it's back and patting him every so often.

Junhui cannot comprehend exactly what goes through in his mind as the exhaustion of getting settled into his new home for the day has finally gotten to him and his mind becomes blank, only able to process little of the moment. He knows only a few things: that he can't look away, that the boy before him has caught his interest for some unknown reason, and that reason seems to stem from an innate knowledge deep within his bones and running through his blood that this boy whom he's only laid eyes on for what seems a mere minute.... should belong right beside him. It's a lot to take in for a nine-year-old, but Junhui isn't like other nine-year-old country boys.

 For one, he understands the difference between us and them. Not just on a hierarchical standpoint, but as a species as well. Their family, though a little more off than the average villager at best is different from any other. They do not do well in places where the sun shines year around. The sun can hurt him very bad is what his mother says. So they must reside in places where little sun is. They have a different diet than others. It is not bad. Humans kill animals to survive, and though not always intentionally, they do as well. It's more important than beef or vegetables his mother says. He needs it to grow strong and stay healthy.

And the biggest difference he knows is people not like them, people who they are different from, they cannot interact with. Someone could get hurt is what his mother tells him, and nobody wants to get hurt, do they? And so, in Junhui nine-year-old mind he decides. He knows the boy before him is not like him. He is different. He could hurt him. And Junhui doesn't want anyone to get hurt. So, he'll keep it a secret, and he'll hide where the sun doesn't shine, silently watching over the boy who lives in the sun, and cares for an Ox.

 

 

***

 

It is springtime years later when Junhui rests his eyes upon the boy yet again as usual. It is the day time, and it is dangerous. The sun could hurt him, but Junhui is protected. Though he must be a fool to have worn so many layers of clothing, he doesn't care. No one can see him. He is that sure. And if no one can see him, then he is safe. The boy had grown taller, he notes. Though being quite poor his physique is thin, almost fragile. Junhui wonders often if the boy has enough to eat. Just as Jun had gotten older and grown throughout the years-passing nearly both his parents in height, baby fat being replaced by muscle, and a soft face in exchange for a sharp jawline and a voice that had developed with him, of dark chocolate and running honey-The younger had grown into an equally attractive young man.

His face no longer held the chubby cheeks often associated with childhood. His features though delicate and somewhat feminine carry an underlining masculinity. Subtle, soft, and unique. He-Minghao he had learned years back-was transitioning from boy to man. And he was blossoming. He could still see the ever-present flush on the youngers cheeks, and he had wondered so often whether it was a natural occurrence for the boy or if it had to do with what he was thinking. And if so, what? The poor farm boy who resided just on the outskirts of the village who took care of a beautiful ox, and supported his aging mother. That much Junhui knew of the boy.

He also knew that on days like this in the springtime that Minghao had a place of his own, within the forest-not too far from home but far enough-surrounded by lush and a steady stream perched on a mossy boulder, he could relax and he could dream for hours within the shade of the trees, sunlight bleeding in to warm his face. He was content, and nothing could bother him.

Junhui wanted to be like Minghao. Content with the simplest of things, able to relax and bask in the warmth that the sun provided, leaving his skin a beautiful glow that not even the harshest of winters could take away. He wanted to be with Minghao, to talk to him and lay beneath the trees and feel the sun on his skin and the water of the stream running against his bare feet, to dream with him, and laugh with him, and witness the beautiful flush on his cheeks up close.

But Junhui was not like him. Not even close. Junhui couldn't live in the light, he couldn't feel the warmth it provided and gain a beautiful glow. He remained pale and untouched from the rays, as he was supposed to. He could not talk to Minghao or even let him know he was there. Because he is different. He could hurt him. And he knows that now more than he ever did as a child.

 

 

***

 

It's summer when Junhui notices the boy is struggling to carry goods on his way home from market. His ox had been wounded for quite some time and the farm boy didn't want to put strain on the animal. Minghao is carrying too much to handle and he notices his arms shaking from holding the heavy bags, sweat running down his neck, and his jaw clenched as he tries to make his way to his home. It's closer to sunset, nearing night time when Jun will be free to walk without the suns harsh rays, but the heat remains ever present and he feels sticky with sweat beneath his layers. Still, he remains in the shadows where he can't be seen.

 It is when Minghao suddenly loses grip on one of the heavier bags and it falls to the ground with a heavy thump does Junhui perk up in alarm. Minghao lets out a frustrated yell, and Junhui is taken aback. Not once had he seen the younger in such distress. And over something so insignificant as losing grip on a heavy bag. Perhaps it wasn't the bag, he theorizes as Minghao gently sets down the others and rubs his palm, flexing his fingers and hissing at times. Perhaps even though spending life as a farm boy, manual labor wasn't for Minghao. He hurt easily. More than usual for someone of his kind. The closer Junhui looked the closer he could see blisters that had formed on Minghao's open hand and he clenched his fists.

Why isn't he properly bandaged? He had wondered. In fact, why is he even carrying such heavy bags when he too is wounded and-oh. He pauses, his jumbling thoughts finally slowing down as he begins to understand. Minghao didn't have anyone that would help him with the bags and he probably didn't have anything to wrap his hands. It was at this moment that an idea had flashed in Junhui's mind. A stupid one. A reckless one. But before he could give it any second thought he was gathering his robes and making sure he was properly covered before stepping out into the rays and approaching the boy.

He didn't say much when the boy gaped at him and had asked him questions but he figured his actions would be enough as he easily gathered the two bags and assured Minghao to walk along. He was even more beautiful up close, he had thought absentmindedly while Minghao had walked beside him, leading him to his home. More than once Minghao had tentatively asked if Junhui was sure of carrying the bags by himself, insisting he didn't feel comfortable with people doing work for him. Junhui shrugged it off and reassured the younger that he wasn't bothered and he wanted to help. Minghao couldn't see his smile behind the scarves he wore that covered his face, but the boy suspected that the mysterious man was amused by him.

When the two had reached the house, Junhui had set the bags down in relief. It appeared that while he was well covered from the sun, the effects of being out had weakened him and he was just beginning to feel tired at carrying the bags. Minghao had bowed to him, ever politely and thanked him for helping him deliver them to his house. Junhui nodded, pointed to the swollen bright red blisters on his palm and told him to take better care of himself before participating in strenuous tasks. Minghao blushed, not knowing the mystery person before him had even noticed and thanked him once again.

Within seconds, the other was walking away, back into the shadows, heart pounding and his mind racing of what he had just done. He had talked to him. He had helped him. And he didn't hurt him. But it was still too risky and if anything, he should think up a quick alibi for being out before sundown so his parents wouldn't become suspicious. It was a one-time thing he had decided. But he found himself craving more. He wouldn't let himself though. They were still far too different, and Junhui reminded himself once again that he didn't belong.

 

 

***

 

It is autumn and war is upon them. What had been lightly brewing in late spring and throughout summer had begun to boil and the country was in a state of unease. As the days grew shorter and the nights grew longer, people had stopped spending time out more than usual, setting up curfews and rules for going out at night. They could be attacked any moment by the enemy was what was told repeatedly. But Junhui lived in a peaceful small village in the countryside and if anything, the enemy would be more prone to attack a city or town. Still, much caution among the village was taken.

Due to the change in weather and day time Junhui was able to go out earlier than usual. He didn't like the autumn and winter months-he much preferred the beauty of spring and summer where everything was flourishing and lively, not dying and withering away like now. But it had its perks, and Junhui greatly appreciated them. The moon was full and high in the sky surrounded by twinkling stars and the village had gathered for the harvest festival. It was one of the few times Junhui could interact with the others. With caution, of course.

A great bonfire sat in the village square bringing warmth to the people who danced and laughed around it. There was food and drinks and music. Junhui loved watching these interactions of people coming together to forget their daily lives and their responsibilities if only for a little while to enjoy themselves and have fun. It was one of the rare things he had in common with them. Yet he remained distant, nodding to the random passerby and wishing them a happy harvest when needed. Junhui was an observer, so being social wasn't exactly his forte but he made do.

His eyes casted over the people of the village, looking for a familiar face he had yet to see that night. Within a few minutes he had caught his gaze just across the way from the bonfire. How warm the light makes his face look, he thought. How beautiful he looks in the night, surrounded by shadows and only the warm glow of the fire casting light to his delicate yet masculine features. Junhui had never felt more for the boy than he did in that moment, with his eyes unable to leave the boy and his throat dry and aching to clench his thirst than to sink his fangs into his soft unmarked neck, taste his sweetness and make him his. And as soon as the thought appeared, the sooner he snapped out of it, shaking his head and casting his gaze downwards. He shouldn't be thinking such things. Not Minghao, he thinks. He could never subject himself to his life. Taking him away from the sun. Where he belongs. Where Junhui doesn't.

The festivities are cut short when a man comes riding into the square, alerting the celebratory village. It's a messenger. And there's been news that there have been attacks in areas near their region. They cancel their festivities and all return to their homes. It's quiet and Junhui can't help but worry. It couldn't happen here. He thinks. He turns over in his bed and looks out at the moon from his window, prays to mother Lilith and asks that the people of their village be kept safe. Especially his Minghao.

 

 

***

 

It is late winter when Junhui is woken from his peaceful slumber by his parents in the middle of the night. As he was roused awake sounds of screaming, horses, and pounding filled his ears. But the most prominent sense was smell. And it was of blood. Lots of it. Junhui had bolted upright, panic sinking in. They were under attack. His village was being attacked by the enemy and he along with many others who haven't been killed yet had to flee. But amidst all the chaos of his family urging him to pack little of his belongings and stealthily run away into the night, the only thing on his mind was Minghao.

Where was he? Was he safe? Had he gotten away before him? He didn't know and he couldn't tell. The only way he could, as his family was urging him quick and quietly through the rampage as not to be seen, was to find Minghao himself and make sure he was safe. Of course, there was the idea of scenting the boy out but with all the bloodshed he had yet to distinguish his scent from others as all of them had mingled into a sickening paint that covered the the pristine white snow.

Families were being separated, people were staying to fight, children and mothers screaming for their loved ones. It was a nightmare and Junhui, fighting his parent’s words stepped away from them and into the raging hell before him to find his Minghao. He didn't have long to look, as his family had warned they would not be staying behind more than a few minutes. Too much was at stake. Hiding behind a fallen crate away from enemy's eyes, he zeroed in on the scene before him, faces blurring as he searched for one, when that didn't work he closed his eyes and focused. It would take a lot for him to scent the boy but he had to do it. Surpassing all the mingling and overwhelming scents of the bloodshed of his village people, he had found it. The scent sweeter than the others alas-but something wasn't right.

 

 

***

 

Faster than he could blink Junhui was up and running through the scene following the scent that was calling to him in weak whispers. There, just outside the small cottage in a bed of snow lay his Minghao. Shivering, pale, and surrounded by his own blood that was falling in ribbons out his chest wound. The boy’s eyes looked up the sky, strangled cries for his mother leaving his lips and Junhui let out a choked sob taking the boy into his arms. There was too much blood the boy may as well have been drowning in it and by the way Minghao looked he had minutes. He couldn't save him.

The boy was fading in and out as he shushed him cradling him delicatel,y as to not cause Minghao more pain. Junhui tried reassuring the boy despite not knowing his mother’s whereabouts, telling him that he was there and he cared. The boy had begun to convulse, blood running out of his mouth and Junhui's heart clenched as the boy stuttered out pleads to not leave him alone. Junhui shook his head tears blurring his eyes as he promised the boy he would never leave his side; he would keep him safe... Minghao’s face contorted in pain, letting out harsh breaths as the blood dribbled out the corners of his mouth. Junhui could tell the boy had trouble speaking and he hushed him begging him not to hurt himself more.

But Minghao didn't listen instead requesting-knowing he was in his final moments- for Junhui to sing him to sleep as what his mother used to do. Junhui complied listening to the boys last wish. When his breaths became fewer and his eyes were drooping did Junhui begin to panic through his lullaby, begging the young boy to hold on and stay for a bit longer. But the boy knew he was within deaths grasp and with the last of his strength whispered the words "thank you for keeping me safe, Junhui."

His name. The first and last time he would ever hear his name from Minghao’s lips. The boy had known who he was. Not just a stranger as he thought and as he watched Minghao finally go limp in his arms, his mind in uproar wondering why he had to reach him so late. So late he couldn't save him. He had prayed night and day for protection and for what? To have his secret mate die in his arms. He sobbed, crying out in anguish clutching Minghao’s body and cursing whoever it was that had dared take Minghao away from him.

They were never to be for they were too different. But couldn't that have changed? Couldn't Junhui have been less a coward? Couldn't the gods spare him the pain of losing Minghao as well so young and so soon into his life. It wasn't fair, never mind they couldn't be together. But Minghao would never grow older. Would never find a suitable person-like himself to marry and have children with. To live a long and happy life. To die warm and old surrounded by loved ones and not cold and hurt in the unforgiving winter.

Junhui placed Minghao down gently, looking once more at his beautiful face. Pale, blue, and smeared with his blood. Never again to have that beautiful flush, or smile, his eyes closed in eternal slumber. He sobbed once more at the sight, caressing Minghao’s face. Tears still streaming down his cheeks. Junhui knelt close to Minghao and whispered the words of love, a confession Minghao would never get to hear before placing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

 

 

***

 

Stumbling back to the village which resumed in its chaos, he took one look at it and sneered. He was filled with rage. How dare they take away the one thing in his life he had treasured? How dare they hurt the innocent people of his village? How dare they wreak havoc to his home and many others for no reason other than hate? Well because his people and his Minghao were murdered with hate, he too could hate. And he would kill with no mercy. 

Unleashing his hurt out onto the very people who dared do horrible deeds to innocents, it was a blood bath and he made sure the last thing those monsters ever saw were his piercing eyes, and mouth dripping with their blood. There was little left of people in the village when all was done. Assuming the rest of the people had gotten out alive or were already passed on, he had made his way back to Minghao. He didn't dare look at the boy as he carried him in his arms. He wouldn't leave him there lying in the cold. He needed to rest in a place filled with peace. A safe place where no harm could ever come to the boy as he slept.

The little place by the stream was where he had laid him. Dawn had approached and Junhui wondered if he should wait for the sun to take him away too. He didn't deserve to live after his only light had been taken. But he would be even more a coward than he already was if he were to let the sun do its damage. No. He did deserve it. To live out the rest of his days never aging, never growing, stuck in one spot forever and living with what he had done. Living with the fact that no matter what he had done he could never have saved Minghao.

As the sun rose higher in the sky and Junhui took to the shadows once again, he stayed gazing at the small pile of pretty stones and pebbles where it marked his Minghao slept. Just beside his boulder and the stream. He looked up, so many questions for Lilith running into his mind. Why being the main one. But as the sun rose and the sky turned a baby blue he saw it. In the tree under which Minghao slept a single green leaf lay on one of the branches. The air was cold and crisp and the birds were singing their morning songs, their cheerful melodies oddly melancholic. As if they knew what tragedy had happened mere hours ago. But his eyes remained on that single leaf and the sun rising high into the sky spreading its warmth below.

It was springtime.

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope I was a bit clear on the major character death and non graphic violence in the tags? If not, then I apologize. I did leave a trigger warning so hopefully that helped. And I know there's not a mention of how it's possibly a historical au if I didn't specify the time period in which it takes place or any naming of certain years, dynasties... I didn't really focus on that. I think of it more as just a long long time ago in China. Vague, I know but maybe one day I'll figure that out? Also I Just said that theres a war going on and the enemies are slaughtering innocent people... that could be any time in ancient Chinese history. Or history in general but y'know.
> 
> I hope I don't sound too lazy or anything. This is going to be a part of a bigger (somewhat?) Series so I should be putting light to those things later on. Also Yes, I'm very very sorry for killing the sweet cinnamon roll human Minghao don't be mad at me. Junhui won't live in misery for long. Well...
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading this I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Please tell me what you think of it. Did you hate it? Did you love it? Do you hate me for killing Minghao and leaving Junhui all alone? Thoughts? Theories and helpful constructive criticism? Aha, I don't have a beta so most of my editing is done just by me and my good pal microsoft word so....
> 
> Yeah, that's pretty much it. Thank you so much!
> 
> XX, Ciao!


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